


Grumpy Carmilla

by orphan_account



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Sexy Times, as fluffy as carmilla, let me know if i'm derping, not sure if i'm using fluff correctly, pure fluff, there's smut now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-16 18:31:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4635798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A two-shot of our favorite girls.  Got the idea from a tumblr post and had to write it!  Laura adopts a new cat and some fun things ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this gif from the christmas episode on tumblr and the caption said, "THEY ARE LITERALLY A DOG AND A CAT." This happened... spread amongst the other creampuffs, please! Oh, and enjoy x If you wanna see the gif, go on my tumblr: valleyforge-down. Unbeta'd and written in three hours hehe

**Early Spring**

 

              Compared to the dog kennels, the cat room is decidedly much quieter. Laura’s ears are still ringing with barks and howls when she steps into the small room. It takes a few moments for her ears to adjust and when they do, she kind of freaks out that maybe she lost her hearing because she can’t hear _anything_. But then the very helpful SPCA employee – Lola – reassures her that that is not the case. “The same thing happened to me when I first started working here. My best friend informed me that it’s just the extreme difference between loud and quiet…”

              Laura doesn’t mean to, but she tunes the woman out; there are kittens and cats to look at! She gravitates towards the kittens first, cooing at the small bundles of fur. There are three cages, each with three kittens. There’s an orange tabby whose tail sticks straight out. There’s a grey one with grey-blue eyes and Laura decides it’s the fluffiest of all the kittens. There’s also a black kitten with white paws. She almost dies when she spies one kneading its paws, or “making muffins” according to Lola. When her hearing returns, her heart melts at all the squeaky meows the kittens make.

              She moves around the room. Her friend Danny has always made fun of her for looking at every option instead of just going with her first instinct. Laura always sniffs and throws the closest, softest thing at the redhead.

              The adult cats, while still very much adorable, are quieter and follow her every move. They remind her of her catholic school days; the nuns were suspicious of every student and didn’t know it was rude to stare. Some of the cats welcome her, rubbing against the bars of the cages and letting out a more grown-up meow. When she pets one with her fingers, she smiles when it starts purring. The less welcoming cats turn their heads away after deciding she’s not interesting enough.

              “Miss?”

              Laura turns and blushes, just realizing that Lola had been talking to her. “Sorry. What did you say?”

              “I was asking if you’d like me to take one out for you to play with.”

              “Oh! Um…” Laura spins around the room, gaze settling on a couple of the kittens and one of the cats. “Are these all you have?”

              The woman’s smile dims slightly and she pulls at her uniform’s collar. “Well, there _is_ one other cat we recently received a couple days ago. But she’s a little temperamental, so we’ve been trying to acclimate her before putting her up for adoption.”

              “Can I see her? I always like to know my options before choosing.”

              Lola is extremely hesitant, Laura can tell. So, she smiles sweetly and adds, “Please?”

              The woman visibly relents, sagging her shoulders and nods. “Come with me. We keep her separate from the other cats because she’s not too fond of them. Not too fond of anyone really.”

              Laura follows Lola out the cat room and down the hall and into a room. It’s empty, save for a single chair and table. “So, what’s her story? The cat, I mean.”

              “I had the day off, but everyone who was working that day says the lady who dropped the cat off was a real piece of work. She was on her phone the entire time, and she didn’t completely fill out the form we give for drop offs. Just put her name and the reason for donating. Then she left.”

              “What’s the cat’s name? What was the reason?” Laura feels equal parts sad that the cat wasn’t wanted anymore and apprehensive; why would someone not want their pet anymore? It must be bad.

              “That’s the thing. The lady didn’t even fill in the cat’s name! So we’ve just been calling her Kitty. And the reason was, and I quote, ‘Too much time and work to take care of.’”

              Laura’s sharp intake of air causes Lola to look at her. “Sad, I know. But Kitty makes it difficult for us to actually feel sorry for her; she’s quite a character. And by that, I mean rude, stubborn, and grumpy. Anyway, I’ll be right back.”

              Then Laura is alone. She fiddles with her phone, sending Danny an update: **Almost ready to pick. Be home in forty. Come over and meet the newest Hollis member then!**

              The response is immediate. **Okay. Can’t wait. x**

              Laura rolls her eyes. Lately, Danny has started to add the “x” at the end of her texts. She’s not sure if it’s because Danny thinks it’s cute, or her younger sister (who’s president of some sorority/society thing) has finally rubbed off on her and is the cause of it. She firmly refuses to even think about the other alternative – that Danny _likes_ her and it’s her subtle way of letting Laura know. Damn her friend Betty for putting that possibility in her head.

              She’s brought out of her musings by the door opening. Lola walks in with a pet traveling crate and places it on the table. “This is Kitty.”

              Laura pushes off the wall and peers into the crate. Inside, a black cat stares back, dark eyes unblinking. Kitty is crouched low, tucked in the corner. For a cat, Laura thinks she pulls off the resting bitch face perfectly.

              “Can she come out?”

              Lola nods and Laura opens the door, making kissy sounds. “Here, Kitty, Kitty. Come on out.”

              She swears the cat rolls her eyes. Laura reaches a hand inside and two things happen at the same time. First, Lola gasps and cries, “Don’t!” Second, Kitty uses her catish reflexes and swats at the intruding hand. Laura startles, drawing her hand back immediately. She hears Lola breathe a sigh of relief when there’s no blood to be found.

              Laura turns to the woman and smiles brightly. “I’ll take her.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Mid Summer**

 

              Laura unlocks the door to her apartment and wipes at her forehead. Styria’s summers are typically mild in both heat and humidity, but today is especially stifling. She places her purse and shopping bag on the kitchen counter, calling out, “Grumpy, I’m home!”

              Yes, Kitty is now Grumpy. Laura changed the cat’s name after a day. Kitty was so… unoriginal and there are so many other “Kittys” around, she didn’t want Grumpy getting confused. Now, Grumpy only has to worry when Snow White is on the television. Plus, the cat has a habit of staring at Laura with a decidedly grumpy expression, so why not, she figured.

              Laura grabs an apple from the counter and checks around the apartment for said cat. She’s not under the couch or the bed, not trapped inside the pantry (that’s a great conversation starter, Laura has discovered), and not lurking behind the large picture frame hanging on the wall of a human skeletal system (also a fun conversation starter). Laura peeks into the bathroom and gasps. She should have known. It’s been about a week since the last accident, and Grumpy is very conscious of time and semi-predictable.

              The only bathroom in the apartment is usually pristine. Laura’s a tidy person. However, the full roll of toilet paper is now empty, the roll somehow taken off the not-so-simple wall mounted holder that definitely needs two hands to undo and refill. The toilet paper? It’s strewn all over the bathroom. It looks like someone TP’d her bathroom. It’s hanging from the shower curtain rod, wrapped around the pipes under the pedestal sink, and shoved into the tissue box. But mostly, there’s just ripped pieces littering the floor and shower.

              Laura can only gape, her wide eyes taking in everything. Eventually, they land on the culprit who is crouching low in the middle of the bathroom, a nest of toilet paper underneath. The cat is staring at her with an expression that can only be described as smug. “Grumpy! How dare you. You’re a very bad cat! Bad cat!” She steps towards her, causing Grumpy to bolt past her and escape successfully. Laura groans, putting her forgotten apple back on the counter, and begins cleaning up the bathroom. How some of the toilet paper got in some places, she’ll never know. She’s pretty sure she spots Grumpy running past the open door, slowing slightly to meow at her. Laura blows a piece of hair out of her face and continues with the toilet paper hunt.

 

* * *

 

 

**Early Fall**

 

              She and Danny are sitting on her couch, watching a Harry Potter marathon and arguing over which character grows up to be the hottest. Laura says Hermione and Danny says Neville.

              Halfway through the fourth movie, Danny gets up and refills the popcorn bowl. When she returns, Laura notices how she sits closer, gradually closing the gap between them. The last several months have passed without incident, but she figures it’s only a matter of time. She does admit it makes sharing the popcorn easier; she has short arms and it’s easier to grab popcorn when the bowl isn’t on the other side of the couch.

              When Harry Potter and the gang are running through the creepy room in the Ministry of Magic filled with glass balls, Danny puts her arm on the back of the couch, coincidently behind Laura, under the pretense of, “My arm’s falling asleep.”

              Two minutes pass before Grumpy makes an appearance. She strolls into the room from the bedroom and freezes, staring at both women. Laura swears Grumpy’s eyebrows raise. The cat hurdles over to the couch and jumps onto Laura’s lap, hissing loudly and causing Danny to quickly retract her arm and retreat to the other side of the couch with the popcorn. It’s no secret that Grumpy doesn’t like the tall redhead. Laura always writes it off to the cat’s poor socialization.

              To her surprise, Grumpy settles down – still on her lap – and doesn’t give her a look when Laura hesitantly strokes her fur. Laura turns back to the movie and decides that finally petting her cat makes up for the loss of popcorn. Majorly.

 

* * *

 

 

**Halloween**

 

              Laura is hoping her phone’s photo storage doesn’t fill up; she’s taking picture after picture of the massive adorableness in front of her. Every time she thinks she’s finished, Grumpy does something – flick her tail, stare grumpily – and she just _has_ to capture the moment.

              It’s Halloween and Laura’s dressed in a slightly scandalous costume as Snow White. When she ordered it online, the skirt didn’t look short at all, and the neckline wasn’t plunging at all. Despite the inconvenience, she’s still wearing it. Grumpy is also dressed up. As Grumpy, the dwarf. Laura was absolutely ecstatic when she found out that Care-A-Lot had a very extensive dog and cat costume selection. It was the best forty dollars she ever spent.

              Grumpy has a brown, slouchy hat – cat version of a beanie – that has holes for her ears. A grey beard on an elastic wraps around her head and drags on the floor when she walks. Grumpy’s (the dwarf) red coat contrasts very nicely with Grumpy’s (the cat) black fur, Laura thinks. Her favorite part is the little brown booties. Grumpy is absolutely adorable and Laura can’t stop taking pictures.

              They sit on the steps of the apartment building together and hand out candy to the little kids trick-or-treating. Grumpy lets the kids pat her on the head and Laura’s insides melt into mush.

 

* * *

 

 

**Early Winter**

 

              “Grumpy! Stop. Struggling. So. Much.” Laura tightens her hold on the wriggling cat, who yowls in protest. “Oh, stop whining! If you’ll just let me put this on you, I’ll stop being so evil.”

              The cat goes limp and stares peevishly at her human. Laura capitalizes on the opportunity and successfully – finally – wrangles Grumpy into the neon pink cat harness. “There! Don’t you look pretty,” she coos. Grumpy looks away.

              Laura jumps up from the ground and attaches the thin leash. “I’m going to put on my coat and then we’ll head out for an adventure!”

              She wanders to the closet and tugs out her brown jacket. A red sweater falls to the ground. She puts the jacket back, and puts on the sweater, grinning widely. When she returns to her bedroom, Grumpy is gone. “No surprise there,” she mumbles to herself.

              A quick search of the apartment ends with Grumpy hiding her head in one of Laura’s shoes. The two exit the apartment and head down the street. Grumpy finds the closest tree and immediately scales it. Laura has the strong urge to bang her head on the trunk, but resists. She probably looks ridiculous as it is.

 

* * *

 

 

**Late Spring**

 

              The couch is a mess on one side. A literal, torn up, stuffing deprived mess. On one side. The left end of the couch is shredded, its bowels harvested. Stuffing is _everywhere_. It’s on the kitchen counter, between the couch cushions, on top of the television, and Laura finds some under her pillow later that night.

              “That’s it! You’re getting declawed, Grumpy! I’ve had it with your stupid, weekly accidents. The toilet paper was okay – annoying, but okay. The cardboard boxes in the pantry was okay. This, my _couch_ is not okay!” Laura feels a little hysterical. Grumpy looks at her like she’s extremely hysterical. Though, she’s not sure if it’s because of the rant, or the declawing.

              Grumpy somehow locks herself in the bathroom five seconds later, and Laura’s inclined to think that it’s the declawing. “Grumpy! Open the door right now!”

              Thirty minutes later, a couple scratches on Laura’s arm, and a permanently spooked look on Grumpy’s face, they’re at a stalemate in the kitchen. Every time Laura jerks a hand out, Grumpy jumps onto the top of the wall-mounted cabinet, conveniently high out of Laura’s reach. Every time Grumpy tries to dart past her – either on the ground or the counters – Laura blocks her path.

              Eventually, Grumpy manages to pass Laura, only for the girl to grab a hind leg and pull her back. Laura goes WWE on her cat and pins Grumpy to the ground, trying to avoid the flailing back legs with claws. “Stop! I don’t understand why you’re being so horrible! You need to understand: if you didn’t do all those bad things and ruin the couch, you wouldn’t need to be declawed.” Grumpy yowls in protest.

              Laura is about to throw in the towel when there’s suddenly a blinding light. She has to close her eyes cover them too, with her hands. When the light fades, Grumpy is gone. She scans the living room with wild eyes before landing on a girl, sitting on the arm of the ruined couch, her black combat boots resting on the cushions.

              Laura stumbles to her feet, blinking rapidly. White dots swarm her vision, but she manages to spit out, “Who the hell are you?”

              The girl raises one eyebrow – an uncomfortably familiar gesture – and scowls. “You didn’t honestly think I’d let you declaw me, did you?”

              Laura’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. “How? What? Huh? _Grumpy?_ ”

              The girl scoffs, a smirk finding its way on her lips – red lips, Laura notices vaguely. “I’m Carmilla, and it looks like you just got yourself a roommate, sweetheart.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and grumpy Carmilla's relationship grows.

**Late Spring**

 

              Laura knocks on the guestroom door, which is strange, since it’s her apartment, but the room is no longer really _hers_. When the voice on the other side says, “Enter,” she opens the door and finds the girl – Carmilla, her new roommate – laying on her back on the bed, her socked feet propped against the wall.

              “Is that… my pillow?” Laura points at a suspiciously familiar looking yellow pillow mixed with the two guest bed’s pillows.

              “Nope,” Carmilla replies, still looking at the ceiling.

              Laura is thrown off for a moment; the girl is so unlike anyone else she’s encountered before. Carmilla, she’s found, is exactly the way she was when she was a cat. Except, there are a few new things. She’s very smart, she likes to read, she’s fluent in sarcasm, she finds humor in strange things (especially scaring Laura by sometimes walking in a room in cat form), she loves black, her hair is seemingly always perfect, she enjoys history, she’s lazy, and she will sometimes make exceptions for Laura.

              “Well, when I go back to my room, I expect to see my yellow pillow on my bed,” she huffs, trying to assert her authority. She finds it’s much harder to do with a human, than a cat. Even if Carmilla is one in the same.

              Carmilla hums noncommittally and finally shifts to face her. “So, why are you really here, cupcake?”

              Laura has also discovered the intense stare as a cat only intensifies as a human. Though, it might be because of Carmilla’s extremely dark and heavy eye makeup that she is in no way jealous of. She waves her other hand which holds several pieces of paper stapled together. “I’ve drawn up a ‘Roommate Contract’ for us to go over together and sign. If you’re going to live here, I’ve got rules you have to follow.”

              Carmilla’s blank expression has become amused, the corner of her lips turning up in a smirk. It unsettles Laura slightly. The girl stands up and brushes past her, leaving the smell of something in her wake. Laura can’t describe it, but it makes her shiver and take another lungful, discreetly of course.

              She turns and searches the apartment. Carmilla seems to walk around the place silently and Laura hates it; she never knows when the girl might pop out around the corner.

              She comes to the kitchen and finds said girl sitting at the table, feet propped up. Laura joins her and places one copy of the contract in front of her, keeping one for herself. “Okay, so it’s pretty simple. You have to pay for half of the rent, which I guess means you have to get a job, but uhm. You also – ”

              “You act like I’ve never roomed with someone before.”

              “Uh… I thought that since you were a _cat_ , that – ”

              “I’ll pay half, keep my room clean, do my own laundry, blah, blah, blah.”

              Laura wants to point out that she doesn’t care whether the room is clean or not (she knows it’ll never be clean, let’s be real), but she figures this is as close of a confirmation she’ll get. She offers Carmilla a pen and watches her sign it, her writing graceful and loopy. Cursive, she thinks. _Carmilla Karnstein_.

* * *

 

 

**Early-Mid Summer**

 

              She and Danny are laughing about the time she fell on her butt while ice skating when Carmilla walks in, her shift at a popular bar, over. She hangs her keys on the hook next to Laura’s and when Danny, polite as ever, greets her, she rolls her dark eyes and mutters, “Xena.” She disappears down the hall to her room.

              “You know, Laura. I still don’t get why you got a roommate. I mean, if you needed help paying rent, you could’ve asked me. She seems dangerous. I am glad you got rid of Grumpy though, she and I didn’t really get along. Though, sometimes it feels like your new roommate just replaced your cat.”

              Laura laughs nervously, hoping Danny doesn’t realize just how spot-on she is. “I’ve told you: I couldn’t handle Grumpy anymore, so I took her back to the SPCA. And Carmilla is a friend of a friend, who needed a place to live.”

              “What friend?”

              “What? Lola Perry, the woman who helped me at the pound.”

              Danny sighs and stands up. “I just worry about you, Laura. You know how much I care about you, and living with a girl who has a shady past doesn’t help me fall asleep easily.”

              Laura stands too, starting to walk to the door. “Danny, I really appreciate your concern, but I promise you, Carmilla is perfectly safe. I wouldn’t let someone live with me if I didn’t trust her.”

              The redhead hovers by the open door, quiet and obviously debating something. Laura really hopes it’s not what she thinks it is – .

              Danny leans down and presses her lips to Laura’s. “Thanks for tonight. Call me later, okay?”

              Laura can only nod, frozen in place. The door shuts solidly.

              “So, Agent Orange finally made a move.”

              Laura jumps, whirling around and finding Carmilla leaning against the hall wall, her lips turned down in disgust. “Her name is Danny, and she left before I could tell her that her feelings are unrequited. Not that it’s any of your business.”

              “We live in the same apartment. Your business is my business, cutie.”

              “My name is Laura. And you’re only living here because I’m allowing it. I don’t understand why you even care about her. Or why you don’t like her. You’re lucky she doesn’t connect you and Grumpy together.”

              Carmilla scoffs, “It’s not _her_ I care about, and she couldn’t put two and two together if she tried for the rest of her life. You humans are so dependent on the “see it to believe it” concept.” Black smoke suddenly shrouds her and when it clears, Laura only sees the tip of a black tail disappear around the corner. She hates it when Carmilla does that; end conversations by turning into a cat.

              The cat thing was something she quickly grew accustomed to – after several hours of Carmilla repeating how it was possible and no, she wasn’t an alien sent from another planet to seek the destruction of all humankind. Honestly, she had understood it after the third time, but it was too fun riling the girl up. The red lips turned down in a scowl did tingly and warm things to Laura that she definitely did _not_ want to think about.

* * *

 

 

**Mid Winter**

 

              They’re watching _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ on the couch and sipping on strong eggnog. Carmilla had insisted on making it and Laura is pretty sure there’s at least half a bottle of rum in it because she’s feeling very warm and fuzzy. Though, that could be because Carmilla’s arm is resting casually behind her head and they’re sharing a blanket. If Laura focuses hard enough, she swears she can feel Carmilla’s leather pants covered thigh brushing against her own bare one.

              She knows the excuse is lame, but because she’s a little bit tipsy – maybe a little more than a little bit – she allows her mind to wander. Naturally, it lands on the girl beside her. Over the several months – ever since she very gently turned Danny down – Carmilla’s mood has improved greatly. Which means that she leaves the kitchen less of a mess than usual (she finally started putting three-fourths of her dishes in the dishwasher, leaving the other quarter out for Laura to clean), she leaves a post-it note on Laura’s bed whenever she takes her yellow pillow (“Will return when I feel like it” in her loop cursive), and she sometimes cooks and leaves the leftovers in the fridge labeled with a single letter: L.

              The most notable change with Carmilla though, is her forwardness with Laura. When it first happened, Laura thought that it was just a fluke. The second time, she figured she was imagining things – hoping for it to be true. The fifth time, she was almost positive that Carmilla was flirting with her, but again, she wasn’t sure. Carmilla used sarcasm for everything, “flirting” included. The twentieth time, which happened a couple days ago, Carmilla had mentioned something about 17th century dancing basically being sex, when they were watching _A Cinderella Story_. She had then proceeded to show Laura what 17 th century dancing was like. Laura felt like it took hours for her to stop blushing.

              “Refill?”

              Laura nods carelessly, her eyes automatically drifting to Carmilla’s ass when she stands. Those leather pants are seriously a god-send. She’s so tempted to reach out and squeeze, but she doesn’t. When temptation is safely out of her sight, she returns her attention to the movie, but honestly, she can’t even remember what’s going on. Probably Lucy making fun of Charlie Brown, per usual. Laura sighs, extremely content, but also restless. She’s long since admitted to herself that she is attracted to her roommate. Her cat-transforming roommate. She lifts her head off the back of the couch and drops it back down, sighing loudly.

              “What’s up, buttercup?”

              Laura opens one eye and peers at Carmilla, holding two filled glasses. She lunges for one and takes a large gulp.

              “Easy, tiger. Your tolerance is lower than the depths of Dante’s nine levels. And you’ve already had two glasses.”

              Laura knows she’s pouting, but she also knows how it affects Carmilla. “Nope, your little puppy dog eyes are not working on me this time, cupcake. I’ll drink these ones, you just sit there and look pretty.”

              Blushing, Laura obeys and smiles when Carmilla’s arm returns to its previous spot, but this time, it’s actually propping her head up.

              On the screen, Charlie Brown is gathered with his friends around his measly tree, singing. As the credits roll, Carmilla nudges her. “Look up.”

              Laura does so and finds a hand holding a branch of mistletoe over them. Her breath hitches and she looks beside her. “Carm…”

              A hand comes up and cups one side of her face, the touch feather light. Carmilla leans in, her eyes focused solely on her lips. Before they touch hers though, Laura grips her shoulder. The brunette mistakes this as rejection and tries to pull away, but Laura’s hand keeps her in place. “I just want to ask something, first.”

              Carmilla is wary, but jerks her head in confirmation.

              “Have you been flirting with me?”

              The frown turns into a smirk. “I have been the past several months, but thanks for noticing.”

              That’s all she needs to hear. Laura slides her hand up a smooth neck and around to the back of Carmilla’s head, bringing them together finally. The haze she had been feeling for the past hour – hell, the past months – vanishes and everything is so _clear_. The kiss feels so right. It’s rather PG, just lips overlapping one another, a few quick breaths between each kiss.

              Laura feels the mistletoe hit the side of her head, followed immediately by Carmilla’s other hand skimming down her side and settling firmly at the base of her back. Teeth catch her bottom lip, dragging a low moan out of her. Laura won’t be outdone, so she disentangles her hand from soft, brown waves and slides it to the covered ass that’s been taunting her the whole night and _squeezes_. When Carmilla breaks away an inch and sighs heavily, she’s ready – she covers that mouth, those red lips with her own and takes what Carmilla’s giving.

              She decides to show off and flexes her hand again to entice the same reaction and when it happens – a loud moan this time – she slips her tongue in, licking up until she touches the roof of Carmilla’s mouth. The whimper she hears almost makes her lose focus. They break apart again, breathing lightly despite the rather intense make out they just participated in.

              Laura feels like she was just given a shot of straight adrenaline, her eyes are wide and her face will probably be stuck in a smile permanently. When she takes in Carmilla, the warm fuzzies are back and spread throughout her entire body before settling low between her legs. She can’t remember the last time she’s been this aroused, this worked up. Carmilla’s eyes are half-lidded, those dark chocolate irises dilated beyond belief. Her lips are swollen, thoroughly kissed. Laura is proud, _she_ had done that, made Carmilla like that.

              She leans forward, giving the girl numerous light, silly kisses – on her nose, forehead, the corner of her mouth, over her eyes. Slowly, Carmilla eases out of her daze and the most genuine smile graces her face. “Damn, cutie. Who knew you had a killer tongue.”

              She’s not sure what prompts her to say it, maybe the alcohol in her system or the addiction to Carmilla herself, but she does. “Not Danny.”

              At the name, Carmilla’s eyes harden and she lunges, knocking Laura flat on her back along the couch. “She’ll _never_ know you the way I do. She better not.”

              Laura decides that mentioning Danny is kind of a good idea; the rest of the night is spent by Carmilla showing her how much better she is than “Beanstalk.”

* * *

 

 

**Early Spring**

 

              Laura casually looks at her fancy wristwatch (courtesy of her girlfriend), and sighs. They’re at private event (again, courtesy of Carmilla) because Laura’s journalist idol, J.P. Armitage is touring Europe and it’s one of her very many dreams to attend one of his talks. However, she hadn’t banked on the reception afterwards, where everyone mingles and makes connections and other super-adult things that she’s not too interested in. She just wanted to listen to him, maybe meet him, and then go home and tear those leather pants off her girlfriend.

              Instead, the line to talk with Mr. Armitage is way too long, Carmilla is chatting up some tall blond girl, and a very old gentleman is trying to figure out if she and him have mutual acquaintances. It’s been two hours since the talk ended and while she’s usually a patient person, said patience seems to have left the room, something she wishes she could do.

              _Finally_ , the man discovers that he knew Laura’s grandmother’s sister’s friend’s brother’s friend, and he bids her farewell. She looks over at Carmilla and upon spotting the blond leaning heavily into her, marches over, daggers for her eyes. Laura wraps her arm around the brunette’s waist possessively, making her claim very clear. However, the blond seems to have had a few glasses of champagne because instead of recognizing the obvious display and excusing herself, she turns her attention to Laura and pulls her into a very much unrequited embrace. “You are so adorable! Like I was telling Mircalla here, I’ve always wanted to explore the Sapphic side of things, and when she mentioned her girlfriend, I thought, why not go out with a bang and have a threesome!”

              Laura’s eyes are comically huge, and her mouth opens and closes several times. She looks to Carmilla in extreme confusion and wonder, mouthing _Mircalla_?

              The brunette shrugs and being her lazy self, just lets the blond keep hugging her girlfriend. Laura gathers her wits and removes herself. “Yeah, well, I’m tired, so _Mircalla_ and I are going home now. Maybe we’ll see you around!” She grabs her girlfriend’s hand and all but drags her away and out the door.

              Twenty minutes later, they’re stumbling through the door of their apartment, lips practically fused together. Carmilla’s hands are tangled in Laura’s hair, who really doesn’t mind at all. She knows the slight, unconfirmed fetish Carmilla has for her hair, especially when it’s straightened. She has one hand palming Carmilla’s breast and the other her ass, because she seriously lucked out on having a girlfriend with an amazing rack _and_ rear.

              They make it to a bedroom – the memory foam mattress suggests that they’re in Carmilla’s. Laura is about to tear the damn pants off, when a strong hand pulls her back up and they’re kissing, tongues most definitely involved. In the quiet room, the words seem so loud, but maybe it’s because they’re kind of important and even when they’re whispered, it’s all she can hear. “I love you, Laura.”

              She pauses, pulls back and looks at Carmilla properly. She is the very definition of aroused: plump lips with the red lipstick slightly smudged, wavy hair mussed more than usual, and breath coming in small spurts. Carmilla gazes back patiently, seemingly not at all worried about the delayed silence.

              Laura leans back down, touching their noses together and her breath falls over her girlfriend as she sighs, “I love you too, Carm. So much.”

              Just like that, their rushed and passionate actions slow. No more aggressive or lust driven actions; only careful and gentle ones. Carmilla sits up and placing her hands on Laura’s hips, turns her around. Laura feels those skilled hands lift to the zipper of her dress and slowly pull it down, letting the air touch her skin. She slips the straps off and steps out of the pooled fabric at her feet. Standing in a matching set of bra and underwear – black lace, for Carmilla – she feels most of her blood rush south just seeing the amount of _want_ in Carmilla’s eyes. It’s bordering on predatory, but the confessions still linger in the room, keeping the pace even.

              Not to be outdone, Laura steps forward, between Carmilla’s open legs and slides her fingers under the leather vest, slipping it off. Carmilla’s outfit, while not dressy like her own, literally made Laura hot and bothered the entire night. So much black, so much leather, so much seduction eyes, and so much _ugh_.

              Laura fingers the hem of the simple, black tee and lifts it, forcing Carmilla to raise her arms. Laura interlaces their fingers and encourages her to stand. She drags her hands down and around that ass, squeezing briefly and smirking at the soft sigh that follows, before coming to the front and unbuttoning the leather pants. As is always the case, peeling them off of Carmilla is a two-person job that wouldn’t be complete without a little stumbling and some giggles. When her girlfriend is finally freed of everything but her underwear (Carmilla has a slight dislike for wearing bras), Laura takes in the sight.

              Firm, round breasts stare back at her, the nipples already hard – though if it’s due to the artic temperatures Carmilla keeps her room at, or Laura’s intense gaze, it’s hard to tell. The flat stomach and tones thighs are begging to be caressed. But Laura can’t decide where to start. Maybe the smooth neck that has the faintest hint of a fading hickey – she likes leaving evidence that Carmilla is _hers_ , okay – or those lips that are slightly parted.

              Carmilla decides for her. She suddenly finds herself on her back, the mattress cushioning her fall. She shuffles back until her feet are just barely dangling over the edge of the bed, her heart hammering as she watches Carmilla crawl on all fours to meet her in a deep kiss, their tongues immediately touching.

Laura snakes a hand into soft, brown hair and tugs with some force, eliciting a mix of a moan and gasp. With that neck exposed, she focuses her attention on the spot over a pounding pulse and one she knows drives Carmilla crazy. At first, she just nibbles at the skin until Carmilla starts shifting and slips a firm thigh right between her legs and presses _up_. Laura lifts her lips from Carmilla’s neck and groans, her eyes clenched shut. When a hand slides down and cups her ass, she returns her lips to the glorious skin and begins sucking with more vigor, intent on leaving a mark.

              “Cupcake,” Carmilla whimpers, her voice quiet and strained.

              Laura inspects her handiwork and satisfied by the bruise blossoming, she flips them gracefully so that she’s the one straddling her girlfriend. She drifts lower, pausing to lick from the middle of a prominent collarbone up to the tip of Carmilla’s chin, where she places a delicate kiss, smiling. She’s too close to the full lips to not kiss them, so she does, but not long enough for a skilled tongue to slip out.

              She’s back on the prowl, heading down until she reaches those fabulous tits, not hesitating to kiss the top of the left one. She sucks hard, enough to leave a mark again. Laura continues to kiss around the areola, purposefully avoiding the nipple which has hardened. She know from experience that if she were to run her index finger over it, it would give a little, then spring back once she’s passed.

              Carmilla moans loudly and wiggles beneath her, impatient. However, Laura won’t have any it. They’ve had sex before – so much sex – but it’s never been like this; they’ve never _made love_. So, excuse her if she wants to take her time and worship Carmilla’s body. She allows it when hands creep up her back and deftly unclasp her bra. It falls down onto Carmilla and they chuckle softly. Reluctantly, she leans back on her knees and flings the bra on the floor. Returning to her previous position, this time she dives right for the nipple and places her right hand over the other breast, massaging and reveling in the feel of that nipple reacting to her touch.

              Laura flicks her tongue over the pebbled nipple before coming full circle and just sucking on it gently, letting her teeth graze it. Carmilla arches her back at that, pressing her tit harder into Laura’s mouth. Laura moves to the other breast, her hand covering the now wet one, slipping when she tries to pinch it.

              She knows her girlfriend’s patience is wearing thin when hands tangle in her hair and forcefully push her down, past the flat stomach and right to a pair of black boy shorts. She’s about to pull them off when Carmilla presses her thigh between her legs again, causing Laura to yelp in surprise. There is no doubt that Carmilla can’t feel the heat and wetness even through her cotton thong – thongs don’t really cover much in the first place though. She grinds briefly on the thigh, definitely feeling that slickness. She’s not embarrassed because she knows how much Carmilla is turned on by knowing how much _she’s_ turned on.

              “God, Laura. You’re so _wet_.”

              She thinks she might be actively twerking on her girlfriend – if she knew how to white-girl twerk – but she can’t muster a response other than moaning and using her teeth to tug those boy shorts down, exposing a clean shaven mound. Taking a deep breath, she is assaulted by the smell of Carmilla’s arousal and it only serves to increase her own. Halting her movement on Carmilla’s thigh, Laura lifts her hands from where they are clutching some protuberant hipbones (the idea of finding finger-shaped bruises on her girlfriend tomorrow totally did _not_ turn her on) and pulls the boy shorts off all the way, almost getting kicked in the face by some careless feet.

              She’s always blown away by the sight of Carmilla spreading her legs, her pussy exposed and very clearly wet. While she’d normally jump right in, she reminds herself that they’re taking their time. So, she runs her hands up and down one leg, feeling the strength in the calf and thigh muscles. She extends her reach just shy of where Carmilla is so desperately eager for her touch, only to return to a very sexy ankle. Laura repeats the action a few more times before switching to the other leg, laughing when Carmilla huffs, “Take your damn time, why don’t you.”

              Laura takes pity on her very patient, borderline grumpy girlfriend and settles between a pair of toned legs. When Carmilla props her upper body on her elbows, Laura meets her eyes and smirks. She gives no warning when she runs the flat of her tongue up Carmilla’s length and the answering groan is definitely worth it. She does it again, pausing at the top to suck on the visible clit for a second. With her mouth covering Carmilla’s pussy, she’s pretty sure it does something to said girl when she laughs, the vibrations surely causing some bliss to her girlfriend. The brunette gives in and falls back against the bed again, her hands coming to find purchase in Laura’s honey brown hair _again_. The half fetish is soon to become a real fetish, she thinks.

              Laura knows Carmilla isn’t really into the whole orgasm-by-penetration, so she continues licking at the base of the slit, bringing one hand that isn’t covering a breast down and lightly rubbing at the clit. Carmilla jerks her hips up, but Laura’s prepared and follows the motion, barely a pause in her ministrations. She keeps the pace slow and teasing and exploratory. She knows most of the tricks to really knock Carmilla off the edge, but she’s waiting. She knows if she does, and is patient, then – .

              “Please, cutie. _Please_.”

              She smirks, and pulls back briefly. She takes the time to run her tongue around her lips and mouth, gathering the moisture there. Her girlfriend always tastes divine, seriously. “Well, since you said please, Carm…”

              She ducks down and puts more force to her licking and rubbing and at the last moment, slips two fingers into the tight pussy. She wasn’t kidding about the penetration thing; she’s probably only stuck fingers inside her girlfriend a grand total of seven times. She respects it, but there’s no greater feeling than when Carmilla is coming (“Oh, fuck, Laura…”) and her inner muscles are clenching tight around her fingers.

              She doesn’t move her fingers, just keeps them inside. She does, however, suck that clit for all she’s worth, dragging Carmilla’s climax out. When the fluttering around her fingers lessens, Laura gently removes them and licks them clean. Immediately, she moves up and kisses Carmilla deeply, wrapping her hands around a solid waist. “You’re so hot, Carm. And I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

              She smiles when a tongue enters her mouth and knows the brunette is enjoying the taste of herself off her tongue. Carmilla hums and sighs deeply, looking extremely satisfied. They lie there, Laura’s weight pressing down, for a few minutes. Carmilla trails her fingers lightly up and down Laura’s back, who closes her eyes and relishes in the touch. She doesn’t see the glint in Carmilla’s eyes, so she has no warning when she is suddenly flipped onto her back and pressed into the mattress by her girlfriend’s lips.

              Laura has never been religious, but she finally understands why being worshipped would be so novel. Especially when it’s her girlfriend doing the worshipping.

* * *

 

 

**Fin. For real this time.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Decided on a part two. It’s the final part. Hope you guys enjoy, and please spread it around!


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